Psychoanalysts: The Phantom of the Opera
by Psychoanalysts
Summary: Sisters Antoinette and Madeleine live in an alternate universe Earth, where the world harbors characters of fiction. After reading some phanfiction, they diss all of the phans and decide to psychoanalyze the cast of PotO.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Madeleine lifted her glasses slightly and rubbed her eyes. "Have you finished yet?"

"Not quite." Antoinette glanced at her sister from behind oversized goggles. "This, my dear older sister, is a delicate procedure. It requires patience-"

"I know, I know," her sister sighed (+2 alliteration points). "It's just so _boring_, sitting around with you doing it all."

"It's not my fault you didn't take the right class in Fiction."

"Yeah, yeah…"

"The prototype is almost done, Maddie, don't worry."

"Don't call me Maddie."

Antoinette rolled her eyes and prodded the mass of wires again, sparks dancing around her tiny pair of tweezers and fizzing out on the protected surface of the table. Flipping it over to reveal a tiny screen, she whipped out a tiny pencil that you'd find coming with a handheld computer and pressed a corner of the screen.

The tiny panel fizzed to life, displaying a large lake. The image soared over the murky depths of the lake and moved up onto the shore, twisting and spiraling until it came to a halt at a solitary figure, pounding away mercilessly at an organ.

"Gotcha."

Author's Note: Hi, real-life Antoinette here. Maddie's upstairs doing her homework, and I, lucky girl that I am, have none. This, being just the prologue, has not explained the premise of the AU universe that this story is set in. I promise that it will be explained in our next chapter. There will not be long Author's Notes in the future, but this is the beginning and requires this info. I'll just give you a little info on us...

My sister, Madeleine, has a different name in reality, as do I. She is my older sister. She has a marvelous sense of humor, an understanding of my odd brain, and is stubbornly true to ALW's Phantom of the Opera because she, unlike I, saw it on stage.

I, Antoinette, am her 'baby sister,' I have a sense of humor (in my opinion) to rival my sister's, and a rather sharp sarcastic attitude.

Some things mentioned by the characters are taken from Letters From the Characters by Lunasariel, and I owe it to this author. I give credit for those things to Lunasariel wholeheartedly, honestly, et cetera.

Alas, this Author's Note must end. So long, farewell, auf wiedersein, goodnight.

(cue the dramatic Phantomy-cape effect at the end of the Graveyard scene in the movie.)


	2. Chapter 1 Marguerite Giry

**Chapter One - Marguerite Giry**

"Erik. Hey, Erik." The figure jumped and turned to face the screen. He frowned, adjusting his mask.

"Who's there?" he asked in a markedly French accent. "Antoinette, is that you?"

"How did you know my name?" Antoinette's eyes were wide as she pulled off her goggles. "I never even met you before."

"Of course I know you. What game are you playing at, Giry?"

"Maddie," whispered Antoinette. "He thinks I'm Madame Giry."

"I heard that!" Erik cried, whirling around to attempt to find the source of the voice. "Who are you? Where are you?"

"He doesn't look so threatening when he's confused," giggled Madeleine. "Will he try to Punjab the wall?"

"I'm not that stupid!" he insisted.

"Are too, pretty boy," said Antoinette, unimpressed. "I don't even sound like Miranda Richardson."

His brow furrowed. "Where are you?" he repeated.

"I'm talking to you through a nice pretty heap of wires in Non-Fiction."

Now, you see, Earth was divided into two separate realms- Fiction and Non-Fiction. Those in Non-Fiction could visit Fiction and interact with their favorite characters. If you had never seen, say, Michael Crawford in The Phantom of Opera, but you _had _seen Gerard Butler, you just had to imagine Gerard Butler as the Phantom and his appearance would change for you. If you preferred Emmy Rossum's Christine to Sarah Brightman's, or vice versa, just imagine them in character, and ka-poof! Their appearance changes for you. Although the Non-Fictionians could travel into the land of Fiction, the Fictionians couldn't travel into the land of Non-Fiction, lest they be ambushed by wild fans.

"Oh." He sounded rather uninterested. "What do you want?"

"We- my sister Madeleine and I- are studying Young Adult's Psychology. We have encountered the horrors of phanfiction, and would like to psychoanalyze the entire cast of The Phantom of the Opera. But we don't have parental consent, what with all of the laws restraining minors from Fiction, and I have built a device to safely and untraceably transport you all from Fiction to our home in Non-Fiction."

"Why should I agree to this?"

"We'll eat your head if you don't," said Madeleine cheerfully.

He looked rather alarmed. "Is there, um, anything you need me to do to be psychoanalyzed?"

"Just gather the cast. We have a specific order for you guys. Oh, yeah- bring Firmin, Andre, and Carlotta too. They're on the list as well."

"All right…"

Five agonizing minutes later:

"I'm pressing the button, are you all ready?"

"Yes."

FROOSH.

A huddled group of Fictonians appeared in the rather large home of Antoinette and Madeleine.

"Ee equals ehm-see squared!" Madeleine squealed.

"What?"

"Don't mind her, she's mentally disabled," said Antoinette, not looking up from her Psychology class notes. "All right, Marguerite Giry, please come forwards and enter the psychoanalyz-ation room." She gestured vaguely at a door with her pencil and Meg obediently entered the room.

"Come on, Madeleine, we have work to do."

- ------------------------------------------ -

"Please, Meg, lie down." Madeleine, suddenly all business, gestured to the stereotypical psychologist's recliner in the center of the room as she shut the door behind them.

The room was painted a soothing baby blue, and the floor was black and white checkered tiles. The recliner was a rather pretty shade of gray, and there were two comfortable armchairs for the sisters.

"All right, Meg," said Antoinette in her no-nonsense voice. "We have here some information from your therapist," she began, tapping a clipboard resting on her lap. "You claim jealousy of Christine, that her story's rapid rise to fame is lowering your self-esteem to the point of an inferiority complex, and you feel like no one is paying attention to you. Your mother has done the best that she can, but you feel like she doesn't empathize with you."

Meg spluttered and squeaked, "What about the Hippocratic Oath?"

"There is no Hippocratic Oath in Fiction, stupid," said Madeleine, rolling her eyes.

"So, Meg… describe these feelings of jealousy towards Christine."

Meg looked hesitant, but began. "In the beginning, it was all right. She was the main character; it was to be expected. She was constantly being plagued by rabid fans, and I was liked by the nerds. It was a blow to my self esteem. But the publicity was rather catching and I started to enjoy whatever attention I got. As Christine's fame grew, I started wishing for a bigger piece of the metaphorical pie."

"You've been working on your vocabulary," Madeleine remarked.

"I would use one of those computer things and search up fan fictions," she rambled. "It was so interesting what people could cook up about me. But there were even more stories about Raoul than me. Seeing as how most of our fans hate him, that lowered my self-esteem even more."

"I see," said Antoinette thoughtfully. "Now, Meg, let's work on your self-esteem."

Madeleine looked up. "Chocolate helps," she supplied cheerfully.

"You have an inferiority complex," continued Antoinette blithely. "You envy Christine and your self-esteem is at an all-time low. How do you think we can change this?"

"Chocolate!" Madeleine repeated.

Meg looked unsure.

"Why don't you make publicity of your own, Meg?" suggested Antoinette. "Who needs Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Weber when you can make your own fame? Try pursuing your prima ballerina career. Your mother would be very proud."

"That's true," she agreed quietly.

"Maybe even write a book!" said Madeleine. "'An Insider's View of The Phantom of the Opera!' It would be a hit!"

"Do you really think I could?" Meg asked, her eyes shining and the excitement making her seem to glow. "Really?"

"Of course, Meg! Who needs Christine's fame? Gain your independence! Rebel!" Madeleine pounded her knee emphantically, but this turned out to be rather painful. "Ouch," she hissed, then continued. "No, really. I think it'd be a huge success."

Meg's countenance seemed to change in an instant, her whole face alight with happiness. "Wow, thanks, you two! I'm going to get started right away on that book!" She hopped up from her seat, prancing cheerily out of the room. "Now, how would I start it? Um, 'Once upon a time--' No, that's not right. 'It was a dark and stormy night--' No, no... '" Meg rambled on as she left the two sisters. Madeleine was clearly satisfied with herself, wearing an enormous grin. Antoinette, on the other hand, seemed less than pleased.

"'An Insider's View?'" Antoinette growled, her eyes narrowed at her sister.

Madeleine raised her eyebrows, clearly not understanding her sister's aggravation. "What? I was just trying to help! That's what we're here for, isn't it?"

Antoinette rolled her eyes, scribbling something on her clipboard. Without looking up from her notes, she called out, "Next! Signora Giudicelli, please come in."


	3. Chapter 2 Carlotta Giudicelli

Chapter 2 - Carlotta Giudicelli

There was a silence in the examination office while the two sisters awaited the entry of Signora Giudicelli. The girls exchanged glances, curious as to why the singer had not yet appeared. Getting rather impatient, Antoinette called out once again, "Umm... Signora? If you would please come--" But poor Antoinette was rudely interrupted.

"I do not see why I must come here! This is stupid!" raved Carlotta, her thick Italian accent making it a chore to figure out what she was saying.

Madeleine never was one to anger quickly, so it was Antoinette who immediately lashed back at the complaining opera singer. "You are here because I said so! And you will cooperate and do exactly as I tell you. UNDERSTAND?"

Carlotta was quickly put back in her place, and she nodded meekly, sitting daintily down in the recliner. "Si," she replied, her tone instantly returning to a more normal one.

Madeleine looked at her sister, brow raised. "We."

Antoinette blinked, not understanding. "Uh... What?"

Madeleine was more than happy to explain. "She's here because _we_ said so. And she'll do what _we_ tell her to do. Understand?"

Though Antoinette understood, she wasn't happy about being interrupted. "Whatever." She lifted up her clipboard, scanning the information for a brief moment. "Now, Signora, from what I've learned from your therapist, it seems that you have many, um... _Issues._ For example, you seem to be extremely resentful of just about everyone around you. Now--"

"Plus you eat hats." Madeleine was more than happy to contribute this tidbit, but Antoinette didn't appreciate it.

"She... _eats hats_?"

Even Carlotta was confused on this one. "I eat hats?"

Madeleine obviously just couldn't tell why no one understood her. "Uh, yeah. Remember? She goes-" With this Madeleine dramatically replicated a scene from the movie right before their eyes, accent and all. "I have not my costume for Act Three because somebody not feenish eet! And I 'ate my att'!"

Carlotta was apparently not at all flattered having been mimicked right before her eyes. "How dare you, you little... You little..." She hadn't the words to describe her sudden hatred for Madeleine. And so the diva rose from her chair and stormed out of the room all in a huff. Antoinette, once again, was quite displeased with the way her sister was handling these sessions.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" spat Antoinette, glaring angrily at Madeleine.

Madeleine pouted, shrinking back in her chair. "It's not like I can help it..."

Antoinette once again rolled her eyes, glancing at her clipboard to see who was after Carlotta on the list. "Managers, you're up!"

"Ooh... Double trouble."


End file.
